


Burning Lights A Million Miles Away

by lesbianoodle



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil is Mostly Human, Dana is a Good Friend, Diego is Desert Bluffs Carlos, Diego/Kevin is sooooo unhealthy, Fluff, Kevin is Inhuman, M/M, Strexcorp is Evil, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianoodle/pseuds/lesbianoodle
Summary: Cecil likes to investigate the old parts of the town, known formerly as Night Vale, and decides to let the cute new scientist in town help him out because... Well, he's cute.





	1. Chapter 1

Cecil hooks the camera around his neck again, letting it hang from the lanyard he constructed by braiding several ribbons together, and pushes the dusty old window open again. He swears he left it hanging open when he climbed through the first time but either the wind or some kind of ghost must have managed to push it closed. It's not unusual for this to happen in abandoned buildings such as these that are probably haunted by the kind of ghosts that don't like people in their personal space. Ghosts can be very easily insulted. 

When he's managed to lodge the window open again, Cecil climbs out with the kind of ease that only somebody who has climbed out of a second floor window before can manage. He squirms his way out of the window and onto the roof of the porch, half climbing and half sliding down it. He grabs the edge of the porch to secure himself before swinging down onto the railing that lines the porch and leaping safely onto the grass outside the building. Cecil lands like a cat- like he's seen his cat Khoshekh do a million times before- and brushes himself off. 

He's not expecting the faint echo of somebody applauding from across the street for two reasons. Firstly, it's well known to Cecil that he is the only person that enjoys venturing around the old part of town anymore and everybody else just likes to turn their back on it. Most people seem to think that the old haunted, creaking buildings are creepy for some reason and that he's weird for spending his weekends inside them. Secondly, in a place such as Desert Bluffs, people don't applaud when they see somebody climbing out of the second floor window of a building. They cover their faces and keep walking, hoping nobody saw them nearby. Or they call the cops. That's been a thing that's happened more than once. 

"Did you just climb out of the second floor window?" There's a guy standing across the street. To describe him just with words would be... Difficult. He's wearing a lab coat that looks old and worn, like he's worn it since he was ten years old. It has several pens stuffed into the chest pocket, one of which has leaked and left a large ink stain there. But it's perfect. His hair is long and beautiful, wavy and perfect, and Cecil can't describe how wonderful it is. Seriously, there are not enough words in English or any other language to describe it. Cecil falls in love instantly. 

"Yes, yes I did. Was that you applauding just now?" Cecil asks.

"There's nobody else around." The guy points out, not unkindly, and he smiles a brilliant smile that stretches from ear to ear but not in a creepy way. He doesn't smile in the way that most people in Desert Bluffs do, like everything is fine when it isn't. It's a genuine smile. That's something Cecil hasn't seen in a while. 

"Your hair is beautiful." Cecil tells him. 

"Uh... Sure." The guy says, like he had no idea. 

Despite how long they've been holding their conversation, they're still talking to each across the street like the total strangers that they are. Cecil is standing on the grass outside of the house and the guy is across the cobbled sidewalk, beaten and dusty road, standing next to the broken mailbox belonging to the house across the street. But now, Cecil adjusts the messenger bag slung across his body- the one he uses to carry his notes between his apartment and here- before stepping out onto the street. He crosses the street to where the guy is still standing and pauses across from him, smiling at the stranger broadly. 

"Your hair is just perfect." Cecil croons in awe. He reaches a hand across to touch the wave of hair that falls in front of the stranger's face but the guy jerks back abruptly, out of his reach, and shakes his head repeatedly. Okay, no touching then. Cecil holds up both of his hands in surrender, taking a couple of steps back to make sure he wasn't in the guy's personal space. There was an awkward break of silence while the two of them stared at each other. 

Cecil eventually cleared his throat. "I'm Cecil Palmer." 

He waits for a beat, expecting the guy to react in some kind of way. Most people, upon realising exactly who he is, will either cringe away from him or slap their palm against his as a gesture of friendliness. Because here's the deal with Cecil Palmer and Desert Bluffs; him and the town don't get along very well and they never really have. Ever since he was a kid in this place, he could tell that something wasn't quite right here and everybody else seemed to turn their backs on the wrongness they were surrounded with. He was sort of outcasted ever since he started a radio show to talk about his theories, his ideas, his sightings. In short, he's the town weirdo.

A few people seem to agree with him and he has a close knit group of friends who he's met due to them reaching out to his radio show. Some people respect him or even honour him. But most people seem to fear him, uncomfortable even in his presence. 

"I'm Carlos." The guy responds without a single flicker of recognition on his face. 

"You might know me." Cecil prompts, eager to get some kind of reaction out of him, "I run a local radio show. It's pretty controversial." When Carlos just looks confused, he decides to switch he subject quickly, "So, what are you doing around here?"

This seems to flip a switch and Carlos's eyes brighten intensely, "Oh! Just science things. I'm a scientist and I got bored studying things in the lab and decided to come for a walk out here. Everybody seems to have forgotten that this place even exists- they seem to want to forget- and I'm going to figure out exactly why that it is; using science, of course." 

"I've been studying this place for years." Cecil replies, excited, "I started looking into this place when I was just a radio intern and I'm doing an entire show about it now. This part of town is incredibly curious to study. You're so lucky you have science to help you." 

"Yeah, I am lucky to have science." Carlos looks grateful to finally be on a subject that he can talk a lot about, "Science is the best because you can use it to figure out absolutely everything. And it's going to help me figure out what's going on in this old place. Now if you don't mind, Cecil, I actually have some very importance science to do." 

On that note, he raises the clipboard that had been dangling from his left hand and draws out one of his pens from his pocket. It's a pen taken from the local science museum which has no actual science in it and it looks almost brand new- Carlos can't have lived in this town very long because Cecil would have ran into him before. Desert Bluffs is the kind of community where there are only a few hundred people and everybody knows each other because of it. Carlos must have moved in last week, when Cecil was too caught up in work to even realise. 

Carlos scribbles something down on his clipboard, glancing up once or twice at the building across the street, before tucking the pen back into his pocket. Without glancing either way, he walks straight across the street and starts studying the building. He runs his hand over the wall, makes another note, before crouching down and studying what Cecil presumed was the entrance to the basement. He'd tried to crack it open but gave up after a few attempts. 

Snapping out of his daze, Cecil hurries across the street. "Maybe I can help you." 

Carlos doesn't look up from where he's studying the two wooden doors pressed into the grass. They've been taken over by time, weeds sneaking through the cracks between the two doors, the hinges so rusted that they won't even move. Carlos tugs on the handles of them but they don't so much as creak. Cecil does not point out he already tried this. Hmmm-ing loudly, Carlos takes another note on his clipboard. He doesn't even seem to realise that Cecil is crouching beside him, eagerly trying to get even a glance at the clipboard. It seems that when Carlos is in science mode, nothing will disturb him. 

Oh, Cecil is so in love with him. This is confirmed for sure when instead of heading back home like he promised he would after a few hours, he instead spends the next two hours watching Carlos do science. Science seems to involve a combination of exploring, studying and writing exhaustive amounts of notes on absolutely everything. Cecil watches, fascinated. And when he manages to get through to Carlos, he offers some of the polaroids he took. The camera isn't his, it's one that he borrowed, and it's a beautiful piece of nostalgia. 

Though Carlos doesn't talk much to him, Cecil clings to every word. 

"Well, I've got to take these back to the lab." Carlos waves a bagged sample he took of the moss growing on the side of the house, amongst a few of the others he collected, as he gets to his feet, "I think analysing this is really going to get me closer to figuring out what's going on here. It would be helpful if I could borrow a few of these photos too, Cecil." 

"You can keep them." Cecil found himself saying, automatically, "Trust me, you have so much more use for them than I do. I just stick them up on the notice board and my blog and enjoy looking at them. Sometimes, weird things show up when I scan them onto my computer. In the background of the photos, I mean. It's always the highlight of my evening." 

"That's pretty interesting, Cecil. I'd like to see those sometime, if you wouldn't mind." Carlos stares intently at the photos as if some spectres are going to appear in them if he stares hard enough, "And I'd like to do some science on these ones. You took these inside, right?" 

"Yeah, in one of the bedrooms. It was the only window that I could manage to open." Cecil points up at where it's still a little open, to make his point, "All the others were jammed shut. The hallway wasn't really accessible but I took some photos of the first floor through the floorboards. One of them..." He reaches for the photos and Carlos recoils from his touch, "Can I hold them for a moment?"

Carlos hands them over without their hands brushing and Cecil picks out the photo he wanted to show him specifically. 

"This one has a looming figure, if you look closely. It's really faint. Here." Cecil points with the tip of his nail, "You see? It's sort of white and glowing. What do you think that is?"

"Well, science would say that it isn't possible." Carlos says, "But that looks a lot like an angel, don't you think, Cecil?" 

The words, especially the A word, echoes through Cecil's ears like chiming bells. For a moment, he can't do anything except stare at Carlos and wonder where this amazing scientist sprung from like some kind of miracle. But Carlos is too busy studying the photo to even realise the incredulous looks he's receiving and by the time he does look up, Cecil has decided that he's not going to ask him how he knows about the angels. Not just yet, anyway. He doesn't want to accidentally set the cops on them or anything. Instead, he just tells Carlos that he's probably going to go back home now and Carlos tells him to wait up. 

Cell phones don't work in the oldest part of town because there isn't any kind of signal there aside from the distant floating signals of either ghosts or ancient radio waves. Because whenever Cecil tries to call someone there, he just hears static with nonsensical words caught between the crackling lines. He can't receive calls either. But as soon as they step over the boundary from the old town, past the gate that locks it away, Cecil's phone begins to beep crazily at him. Several messages from a concerned Earl and a excited Dana blink up at him. Dana's only excited because she had some kind of dream about the time she got abducted and ended up out in the desert for a few months. She remembers something about it. 

He replays the message twice, listening to her talk about the blinking red light, before putting his cellphone back into his pocket and ignoring it. Carlos is still walking at his side and mumbling to himself as he studies his notes again. His spare hand is pinching a strand of his perfect hair and twirling it, twisting it and releasing it. 

"You keep doing that." Cecil notes. 

"What?" Carlos glances at him. 

"Eh, nothing. It's cute." Cecil grins at him and Carlos looks unsurely at him, making sure to leave a space between them on the sidewalk. They walk deep into the centre of Desert Bluffs together and Carlos doesn't seem to notice the stares that both of them receive; the stares of confused and frightened people that were cut neatly from cookie cutter moulds. The stares of people that fear the unknown and the new. Cecil is used to their looks. 

He's not sure how he ended up being born into a place like this, a city like Desert Bluffs, but he's convinced it has something to do with the fact that he isn't from here. Sure, all of his earliest memories involve him standing on the porch of his mother's old house near the edge of the town or in the backyard with his tape recorder. But he's sure that somehow, he's from somewhere entirely different. He must be special. After all, his mother always told him that he was special and she wouldn't just lie to him like that. 

"Bye, Cecil." Carlos's voice cuts through his thoughts. He's stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, by a house that looks just like every other one on the block, and is waiting for something. Cecil isn't sure exactly what but he stops where he is too and waits. Silence. He can hear the crickets chirping and the sound of tyres against the road somewhere not too far from here. 

"I think you should have my phone number." Carlos says, finally, "For purely professional reasons, Cecil, you understand? For science. And you can call it when you've figured out which of those photos you have at home that I'm allowed to experiment on." 

"Uh, sure." Cecil sticks out his hand quickly, eagerly. 

Quickly scrawling down his number on the corner of his clipboard, Carlos carefully tears the scrap of paper free and drops it into Cecil's hand. The ink is still wet so Cecil doesn't dare close his hand around it for the fear of smudging it and losing the number forever. But Carlos seems worried for a moment, like he'll lose it, and gingerly closes Cecil's fingers around the paper for him. In the brief seconds that their hands touch, Cecil swears he feels literal electricity pass between them or something. Carlos's skin is rough but warm. Like a sweater. 

Before Cecil can stutter out even a thank you, Carlos is standing on the porch and fitting his key into the lock in his door. He actually locks his door; nobody does that in Desert Bluffs anymore, since everybody trusts Strexcorp to keep everything under control. Only the people that haven't been consumed yet still lock their door. And as Carlos opens the door and steps inside, Cecil clears his throat and calls after him:

"I'll see you around." 

Carlos hesitates but turns back to him. "Uh, sure." 

And then he closes the door behind him and locks it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> should probably tag mentioned mental health issues
> 
> just briefly mentioned
> 
> but i don't wanna trigger people so... hey
> 
> take care of yourselves.

_"Finally, the local government would like me to remind everybody that they are free to leave if they wish to. However, they will find it extremely difficult to find a way out of our wonderful town. There are no trains, there are no airplanes, and all roads seem to lead to nowhere. It seems this whole time you've been trying to leave, you've just been driving in circles. Endless circles. Look out the window; do you recognise that tree you just passed? Do you recognise that streetlamp? You park your car at the side of the road and get out, only to find that you're standing right outside your house where you started. Did you drive at all?_

_"The government would like to remind you: why would you want to leave anyway? Do you have some kind of problem with us? The government insists that if you have some kind of problem with them, you let them know. After all, they want everybody to have a pleasant experience in Desert Bluffs and the key to a good relationship between a town and their local government is good communication."_

_"Stay tuned for the sound of something not entirely human gnawing on wood accompanied by a picture of somebody you don't know crying about something terribly, terribly sad. And as always: good night, Desert Bluffs. Good night."_

Cecil waited until Dana gave him the thumbs up before removing his headphones. All he had to do now was play the proverb that an anonymous local woman who insisted he never referred to her by name sent in for every episode. Once that had played out, they went off-air and Cecil sat at his desk for a moment, basking in the feeling of another wonderful and completed broadcast. He stretched, got up from his chair, and spared a final look to his desk before heading home for the night. He was so lucky to have the job he had, even if it did mean putting his head on the chopping every single day metaphorically. One wrong move and he knew that the government could remove him in an instant. He steps carefully. 

The radio station is a home away from home for him. He keeps all notes the station approve of stuck up and has a stack of cards and and ideas pinned up to help him focus during his broadcast. A lovely piece of artwork from his niece, Janice, is stuck up too. She's so talented. Charms and spells, that he daily assures the station management are old and no longer work, are taped to the desk to ward off evil. It clearly doesn't work very well because Kevin still works across the hall and sticks his head in from time to time. Once Cecil stuck a charm to the underside of Kevin's desk but he still showed up for work- disappointing. 

Cecil has spent many hours of his time in this room and he regrets none of them, smiling fondly at the small room as he turns everything off and picks up his jacket. He switches the light off before closing the door behind him and Dana meets him on the other side of the door. She's been interning at their radio ever since the last intern mysteriously disappeared. They did replace Dana for a while when she was abducted a few months ago but she's back now. Station management chastised her for taking a vacation without notice but allowed her to work for them again. Dana's a good kid, even if she does worry. 

"Cecil, you need to stop going off script on the government announcements." She tells him, as they head in the direction of the break room; they always pass through there on their way out so that they can check for any notices from the all-seeing government, "You're going to get us another warning. You know they don't like it when you say those kinds of things." 

"I'm merely reading between the lines." Cecil says, as they pass through the break room and study the notice board, "The people of Desert Bluffs deserve the truth, Dana."

"Indeed." comes a familiar eerily cheery voice, "The people do deserve the truth. Which is why we deliver it to them with a bright smile each and every day. Isn't that right, Lauren?" 

"That's right, Kevin! We encourage the people of Desert Bluffs to work hard and be happy and truthful with each other." As always, Kevin has his lackey with him. 

Lauren and Kevin, who had just entered the break room and immediately approached him and Dana, are Cecil's greatest rivals. They also run a radio show and worked directly across the hall, much to Cecil's annoyance. He is sure it's no coincidence that their radio show popped at the exact time as Cecil's and was exactly the opposite. Him and Kevin are constantly warring with each other, passive-aggressively at least, because it was no secret that Kevin is intent on taking over Cecil's radio show and making it just like his own. Cheerful, unrealistic, and absolutely chock full of whatever lies he wanted to tell.

Kevin is spoon-fed by the government and believes every single word they tell him. Hell, he worships every word they told him and Cecil finds it frustrating. Kevin either doesn't know he's spreading lies or he simply doesn't care. Cecil suspects the latter.

"It's good to see you again, Cecil." Kevin grins at him, (he had too many teeth in his mouth, Cecil had always thought, and it made his smile look really unnerving), "How come you never come see me anymore? You used to come visit all the time." 

"Good to see you, Kevin." Cecil says, pleasantly as he could. 

"Lauren." Dana says, even more curtly. 

"Are you guys heading home?" Lauren asks, "We were just about to leave too. Maybe you'd like to come and have dinner with us. We could tell you a little bit more about the delights of Desert Bluffs and maybe you could see from our perspective for once." 

"No, thank you." Cecil says, through gritted teeth, "As delightful as that sounds, we already have plans elsewhere. Perhaps some other time."

Kevin doesn't look the slightest bit defeated, he just keeps grinning. "Okay, some other time. It's always a pleasure to talk to you, Cecil. And your assistant, of course." 

"Dana." She corrects him, "And I'm an intern."

"Right." Kevin looks unphased still, "Bye, Cecil." 

It's almost a race outside into the cold desert night as all four of them walk in the direction of the exit; Cecil doesn't want to walk in front of them for fear of being attacked from behind but if he walks behind them, there's a chance they could block the door. Much to his annoyance, he reaches the door at the exact same time as Kevin and Kevin holds the door open politely for him. Cecil manages to nod instead of scowling as he pulls his jacket on and Dana shoulders her bag and they walk with their eyes focused straight ahead through the dark. The only light streams from the window of station management's office but it doesn't stretch very far and soon, they're walking the unlit distance between the radio station and the bowling alley. 

Without speaking, Cecil and Dana both pick up the pace. And when Cecil glances back and sees that their accomplices have mysteriously disappeared, they both flat out run until they're bathed in the light from the bowling alley. Cecil looks back again and this time, he does see Kevin. Or at least, he thinks he does. All he can make out is a startlingly bright pair of eyes in the dark and the sound of somebody's footsteps against the sidewalk. The footsteps come to a halt and then, the person seems to turn and walk down the back of the bowling alley. Cecil gestures for Dana to hand him his camera and she unzips her bag, pulling it out quickly. 

"Why would they go around the back of the building?" Dana whispers, as they walk around to peer down the alley between the building and a tall fence, "There's nothing around h-"

A dead end, the broken wire of a fence, and no sign of Lauren or Kevin. Cecil snaps a few photos anyway and once he's satisfied, they walk back around to the light. Everything feels safer when it's bathed in the yellowish glow of soft lighting. In his chest, Cecil's heart is still pounding relentlessly and he recognises his fight or flight instinct. He wants to run. Instead, they walk slowly and silently, keeping their eyes fixed ahead. They walk fast because people that stay out this late at night normally aren't seen ever again. 

"Those people freak me out, Cecil." Dana says, finally, as they turn a corner. 

"Those people aren't people at all." Cecil is sure of it, "They're just shells of what they once were, I'm sure of it. There's no way they're real people. But how can we just assume that? We can't. We need to find some kind of proof of it. Where did they come from?"

"Cecil, you're rambling again." Dana tells him, "Do you want me to take the camera back now?" 

"Dana, I could have sworn I saw a pair of eyes in the darkness. They looked too bright and too real to belong to a real person. It was like somebody created the perfect pair of eyes in order to imitate a real person's." Cecil pauses, "What colour are Kevin's eyes?" 

For the longest time, Dana frowns. Until finally, she says: "I... I don't think I know. But I remember... And don't fixate on this, Cecil, because I know it will drive you up the wall. But the first time we saw Kevin... When he started his radio show. For a fraction of a second, I swear I didn't... It was like he didn't have eyes. I couldn't see any. Just darkness." 

"No eyes..." Cecil considers. He's still gripping his camera tightly in his hands, he realises suddenly, and his clammy hands are leaving sweat marks all over it. 

"Please, Cecil." Dana pleads with him, stopping on the sidewalk, "We've been here before. Last summer, remember, you were in the same place you're in now. You fixated on Kevin for such a long time that you became obsessed with him and it drove you crazy. It wasn't good for you... You know that he's like a poison for your mind." Her hand rests on his arm and she looks him in the eyes, "Cecil, promise you won't drive yourself crazy again." 

"I..." Cecil nods and smiles at her, "I promise, Dana. Don't worry about it." 

She smiles back. "Thank you, Cecil." 

When he gets home, racing home after leaving Dana at her house so that he isn't snatched up and taken away by some menacing organisation, he closes the door behind him and locks the door firmly. He slides each lock across and checks them twice. He considers using tape to make sure it stays closed again but last time he did that, Earl freaked out about it. Speaking of Earl, Cecil finds him in the front room with his son, Roger. A kid that age really shouldn't be staying up that late but Cecil knows he listens to all the broadcasts, just like half the people in Desert Bluffs. Especially children. Children are so much more curious than adults and when they're told not to listen to the radio show by their parents, they'll always disobey. 

Roger looks half asleep but it's hard to tell because he's just sitting there and staring at the wall like it has all the answers. Roger has a tendency to... Well, be a little odd. It drives Earl crazy with worry, especially since he has no idea how to talk to his son, but since Earl grew up with Cecil, he's used to dealing with weird. That's what he jokes about, anyway. 

"Good show tonight, Cecil." Earl says, when he sees him come in, "Wasn't it, Roger?"

"Same as usual." Roger says, standing up and taking himself upstairs to bed. 

"Give me five minutes with him and then we can talk, Cecil. You look like you need somebody sane to bring you back to Earth. Kevin, again?" When Cecil nods, Earl just frowns a little deeper, "I really don't like that man. We'll talk, okay, Cecil? Just stay right there."

As he passes him in the doorway, he pats Cecil on the shoulder in a friendly sort of manner and Cecil nods, taking a seat in his usual armchair. It's true what Dana says, he has a tendency to get obsessed and it's really not good for him. His mental health can be a little... Shaky at times but last year, when he couldn't focus on anything except Kevin, when he couldn't think about anything else, when his thoughts were poisoned as Dana put it, things were at their worst. Things are better now. He's fine. Cecil pulls himself up out of his chair and goes to the kitchen instead, finding where Earl keeps the champagne for special occasions. And he pops it open and pours himself half a glass. 

When Earl comes back downstairs, he looks hurt for a fraction of a moment before he remembers to hide it. And he covers the bottle before putting it away again, putting it up high so that Cecil can't reach it. Earl is so much taller than he is and it's not fair in the slightest. 

"Kevin really messed with you this time, didn't he?" Earl says, softly. 

"I get the impression that he exists only to ruin me." Cecil replies, hating how shaken he sounds, "Earl, I'm not phased by much. I've seen so much in Night Vale that even the most extraordinary things in Desert Bluffs are hardly surprising to me. But for some reason, when we were leaving the station, I saw this pair of eyes in the darkness... They were glowing, like a cat's reflecting the moonlight. And it... It scared me. It was bizarre." 

"Cecil... The last time you were scared was when we were kids." Earl looks just as surprised as Cecil feels, "If something scared you... I don't even know what to say. I don't have a badge for coping with situations like this. But I promise you don't have to be scared, Cecil. I'll protect you from anything that tries to harm you. That's what friends do. Help each other." 

"Thank you, Earl." 

Earl opened his arms and Cecil put his glass carefully down on the kitchen counter before gratefully accepting his hug. Him and Earl have been friends ever since they were kids, even though Cecil never understood why. Earl wasn't anything like him and he wasn't anything like Earl but that didn't mean they couldn't be friends. They had drifted apart for a while in middle school but by the end of high school, they were close again. Cecil knew for the fact that Earl had a photo of both of them tucked inside his wallet. It was the picture from their first day in the Boy Scouts- Cecil had only joined because Earl did- and they both looked so small. Cecil had dark curls and no contacts and Earl looked exactly the same but so much younger. 

"You'll be okay, Cecil. You're just having an off-day." Earl promised him, rubbing his back for a moment before releasing him; when Cecil stepped back, he felt a little better, "Go to bed, it's nearly midnight. Everything will look better tomorrow. It will make more sense." 

Cecil shuts himself in his room and retrieves his old folder from underneath the bed, the one that he kept last year. He writes a few careful notes about Kevin and the glowing eyes and the way him and Lauren had suddenly disappeared, tucking them inside. And then, he looks at the photos he managed to take of Kevin last year at the radio station's Christmas party. His eyes were quite dark, his irises almost black, so Dana must have just gotten confused. She must have mistaken his dark eyes as him not having eyes at all. Cecil shook it off. 

He studies his pictures of Lauren Mallard, a woman who's smile was too bright and white, who looked too clean cut and perfect. He swears the pictures stare up at him, like they can actually see him. And then, he closes the folder and looks up at Earl standing in the doorway. 

"Cecil, _please_." Earl says, "Just go to sleep. I promise we'll try our hardest to make sense of things tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nearly halloween whaddup

"I don't know, I guess I'm just really into science at the moment." Cecil says, stroking the top of Khoshekh's head as he tries to convince the cat to settle on his lap. Khoshekh mews a few more times before finally lying down and letting Cecil stroke his head gently. 

"No, you're really into that scientist you met the other day. Carlos. With the perfect hair." Dana corrects, "You keep talking about him. You must really, really like him, Cecil. Have you ever had a crush on anybody before?"

"Um..." Cecil stroked the cat behind his ear and Khoshekh nuzzles against his hand affectionately, "I don't think so. I mean, I have crushes on people before but I've never fallen in love with somebody instantly like that." 

"Don't listen to him." Earl calls from the kitchen, "He says this every single time he likes somebody. He always falls in love instantly."

"Aw, Cecil just loves everybody." Dana leans over so that she can stroke the cat too and Khoshekh immediately scrapers. He leaps off Cecil's lap and bolts, racing out the door and there's a few seconds before the sound of the cat flap slapping open and closed reaches them. Whining gently, Cecil mourns the loss of the cat on his lap and Dana pats him on the arm. 

"Now, he's going to hide in the bathroom at the radio station again. I only just managed to coax him out of there last week." Cecil mutters. 

He found his cat- Khoshekh- in the bathroom at the radio station a few months ago and has been trying to bring him home ever since then. He even managed to convince Earl to install a cat flap so that Khoshekh could come and go as he pleased. Somedays, Khoshekh wanders into the kitchen and fusses until he's get fed. And on those days, he'll let Cecil scoop him up and hold him without even baring his sharp teeth- he doesn't let anybody else hold him. Dana still has two band-aids stuck over her arm from the last time that she tried to hold the cat on her lap. Luckily, Earl is apt at first-aid amongst many other things. 

Despite Khoshekh's tendency to show up when they're eating any kind of fish, the cat spends most of his time in the bathroom at the radio station. Cecil has no idea why he likes spending his time in there when it's a pretty unpleasant bathroom but each to their own, he guesses. 

Anyway, at the end of last week, Cecil finally managed to coax Khoshekh home using a squeaky mouse toy. Then, they locked the cat flap for the first night and Khoshekh has been staying in the house ever since. But it looks like Cecil will be seeing the cat tomorrow at work. 

"Dinner!" Earl announces, as he walks into the room with three plates somehow stacked on his arm like a professional waiter, "Which I cooked myself-"

"Earl is the main cook at tourniquet now, you know?" Cecil glances at Dana, "He's a professional. He's the expert on cooking all food." 

"It only gets funnier every time you say it, Cecil." Earl smiles at him. 

"Well, if you will go around referring to yourself as a professional chef." says Dana, reaching for her plate. 

"We're going to eat in the dining room." Earl tells her, holding the plates out of her reach. 

He's made an amazing dinner, of course, and Cecil tells him so in between mouthfuls; eventually, Earl just tells him to focus on eating and less on talking. His friends frequently tell him that he talks far too much for his own good but hey, he's used to talking for solid hours on the radio by himself. They're just finishing their meal- Earl preparing to serve dessert already- when the doorbell rings and Cecil and Dana exchange looks. Both of them are on their feet and rushing for the front door before the doorbell can be pressed a second time. 

Somehow, Dana makes it there first and begins undoing the seven locks that Cecil keeps on his front door just to be safe. He beats her to it, unsliding each one with ease after years of practice, and pulls the door open widely. Standing outside is Carlos The Scientist- as everybody in town has already taken to calling him- in his labcoat with his hair chopped so that it barely reaches just past his chin. He's still touching it like he was before, stroking it in a similar way to the way Cecil strokes the cat, but it's not the same. Cecil nearly freaks out completely. 

"Carlos?" Dana says, in awe. Over the last two weeks, Carlos has visited only three times. The first time was to just pick up the photos that Cecil had taken and he was in and out of the house in about five minutes flat. The second time, Cecil managed to slow him down and get some conversation out of him in between the discussion of science and how it was helping him investigate. Carlos even showed him the device he was using to detect possible angels. Neither of those times had Dana been around because she only visits after work some days. 

"Hello." Carlos glances at Cecil, "This must be the girl you were talking about the other day. Your intern at the radio station, Dana." 

"Yes, this is Dana. She's an intern currently but only until she's confident enough to run for mayor." Cecil nudges her with his shoulder. 

Dana smiles. "That was a joke, Cecil. I'm not actually running for mayor." 

"You should." Carlos advises, "Anyway, I actually came here to see Cecil about something important." He addresses Cecil a lot more than he addresses Dana, "Do you mind if I come inside and show you some evidence I found of the angels?" 

"Don't say that too loud." Dana leans out and looks up and down the empty street. It's too late at night for anybody to be outside their homes- Desert Bluffs has an unspoken curfew set for the entire town and it's rumoured people out after it are never seen again- but it's still impossible to know whether somebody has overheard them or not. She beckons Carlos to come in quickly and shuts the door behind him, clicking all the locks back into place. 

"Carlos, your wonderful hair." Cecil can't help his disappointment, "What have you done?"

"I cut it." Carlos informs it, "It's a little different but I think I'm getting used to it. Maybe. You look... Weird today. You don't normally dress like that." He looks Cecil up and down, "You look... Good. It's different but it's good different." 

"Thank you! It's my casuals." Cecil smiles, brightly, "We were just about to have dessert. Do you want to join us?" 

"I'll come and sit with you. But I already ate so I'm good." Carlos runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back and it doesn't fall neatly back into place like it usually does. He seems just as bothered by this as Cecil is as he follows them both back to the dining room table. A disapproving Earl seems less than pleased to have Carlos joining them for some reason but he just mutters something about his son and disappears upstairs. He's been doing that a lot lately and Cecil gets the impression that he really, really doesn't like Carlos. Why? No idea. 

"So, Dana lives here too?" Carlos takes the seat by the window. 

"No, she just stays over a lot. We work late." Cecil explains, "The only people that live here are me, Earl, and Earl's son. Roger."

"They're an oddly dysfunctional family but everything seems to work well most of the time." Dana adds, "I'm staying here for a while because we're taking it in turns to sleep shifts. Roger keeps sleepwalking around the town in the middle of the night and we need to make sure that he stays safe." She frowns, "I'm still not sure how he manages to find the keys to the door every night considering they're hidden way out of his reach."

"Children have a knack for finding things they aren't supposed to." Cecil says, "My niece, Janice, is constantly getting herself into all sorts of trouble. Reading books forbidden by the government, trying to start up a school radio show... I'm so very proud of her." 

"You mentioned her last time I was here too." Carlos remembers, "You're a really good uncle, Cecil. It seems like you spend all your time with your niece when you can." 

"Cecil loves people." Dana says, cheerfully, "All people. With two exceptions." 

"Who-"

That's when Earl interrupts, dashing down the stairs in a frenzy and nearly sliding across the wooden floor in his hurry. He grabs his jacket, pulls it on; slides his feet into the tough old boots he reserves for hikes or camps with the scouts; wraps a scarf around his neck because summer is turning slowly to Autumn. He grabs a set of keys from where Dana set them down a few minutes ago and unlocks the door quickly, throwing it open. Cecil waits to hear the door shut behind him but instead, Earl just sticks his head around the door and addresses all of them.

"Roger's gone again." Earl sighs, in this sad way he does when he thinks he's a terrible father, "He's probably wandering the streets again. Saying nothing, just silently staring ahead like he always does. We really need to take him to some kind of doctor if this doesn't stop happening, I have no idea how to talk to him about it..."

"Earl, you're getting sidetracked." Dana reminds him, gently, "Should we come with you?" 

Looking directly at Cecil, Earl says: "It's dangerous out there. I don't want you getting hurt." 

"Everybody knows that the government can only make one person disappear at a time. It takes a long time to entirely erase a person from existence. You have to find all their records and remove their names and find their high school yearbook and brainwash their neighbours..." Cecil stands, "It's a lot of work, trust me. But if we all go, they can't take all of us." 

"I'm not sure the government would take people just because they went out at night. What would they do with them?" Carlos asks. 

"Can we discuss this later?" Earl says, urgently. 

It's colder than Cecil anticipated outside and he really wishes he was wearing his jacket. Since he was already been wearing his favourite sweater with the purple stars printed on it, he figured that he wouldn't need a jacket as well. And as safe from puddles as his feet are in his galoshes, they're pretty freezing too- he's only wearing one pair of socks instead of his usual three, so his feet slip around inside them too. He wraps his arms around himself, pulling his hands up so he can hide them under his sleeves, and mutters to himself as the wind blows his hair into his eyes. He can barely see where he's going, can barely feel his toes... He wonders which sense he's going to lose next and prays that it isn't hearing. 

They decided it would be quicker to search Desert Bluffs from a wandering child if they split up and went different ways. Although Roger has gone missing before, they're yet to figure out if he walks the same route or various ones. Carlos states if he's following the same route every night, it would be an interesting symptom for some kind of post traumatic stress disorder. If he's drawn to the same place every night, that is, Carlos tells him. In case it wasn't obvious, Carlos and Cecil were obviously paired together in the search. Cecil keeps trying to work out whether Carlos is cold or not because if he is, Cecil would definitely offer him his sweater. Even if it meant freezing to death, Cecil would offer him his sweater. 

"You want me to work out a way to get your shoes to fit?" Carlos says, once he's finished explaining exactly how he thinks the trees bordering the town mimic the sound of whispering, "Because I'm pretty sure I can figure out a way to do that. You know... If you want?" 

"Am I walking strangely?" Cecil looks down at his feet and realises that the way his feet keep slipping around in his galoshes does make it look like they don't fit; most likely because they don't, "I'm only wearing one pair of socks. I should have worn my other galoshes, they fit much better than these ones do." 

"Don't the leg warmers help them fit? They're tucked into them." Carlos asks. 

"You think they would but really they're just there to keep my legs warm. There's no thickness to them whatsoever."

"Do your feet hurt, Cecil?" Carlos sounds concerned. 

"I'm so in love with him." Cecil mutters to himself, before adding in his normal voice, "Eh, they rub a little bit. But there isn't exactly anything I can do about that until we get back to the house. It's not like I can-"

"Take them off." Carlos tells him.

"You're worried about my shoes rubbing but not my feet freezing?" Cecil says, as he obediently kicks off one galosh and then the other one. His socks are thin with larges holes worn into them and he can already the skin being rubbed raw where his galoshes didn't fit right. As much as he hates to admit it, maybe he shouldn't have walked so long in them without saying anything. He watches Carlos pick up his shoes and hold them but before he can ask (confused) if he's supposed to walk barefooted now, Carlos turns around. 

"I'll carry you." Carlos says, "Trust me, I can lift you easily. You're small and I'm not, meaning that I already have basic physics on my side. I've worked it out and I think I can carry you for at least half an hour before I have to put you down." He gestures for Cecil to climb onto his back and Cecil forgets to breathe for a moment, "We just have to check the town square and then we can meet up with others there. That's the plan, remember?" 

"I remember. Are you sure?" Cecil adjusts his sweater nervously. 

"I'm sure." 

Earl wasn't wrong in what he said earlier in the evening. Cecil does love (nearly) all people and he does fall in love with somebody instantly every few months without being able to help himself. But as he locks his arms around Carlos's neck, he's sure that this is something more than that. This is heads over heels crazy love and he's sure it must be going both ways. The first time that they met, Cecil wasn't even allowed to touch Carlos's hand. Or his hair. And now Carlos is carrying him past the old dog park. Cecil's arms and legs are wrapped around him, his face is close enough he can smell Carlos's hair, and they're both figuring each other out. 

As they walk, Carlos talks about how he really does like touching other people and how even this is making him feel uncomfortable even if he's happy doing it. He says that he's still working out how to function around other people because he finds it really difficult. Cecil tells him that he wishes he could understand what that was like. 

"You do know, Cecil. You know exactly what it's like to be different." Carlos says, "Why do you think I'm out here in the middle of the night and carrying you, a total stranger, across town? It's because I think you get it." 

And he has a point. 

As it turns out, Earl has managed to find his son and guides him in the direction of the house. Dana and Carlos stick close by, in fear of some secret organisation and/or the government snatching them up. They're talking about science and internships and what Dana is studying at college right now. Cecil, once his feet have adjusted to the cold of the road, enjoys the feeling of walking around at night that he loves so much. The ground is cold, yes, but it keeps him grounded (ha!) and he finds delight in kicking lost sand off the sidewalk. 

"I'd love to study what happens to people who go walking alone after dark." Carlos notes, "Do you think I could set up some of my science devices outside and set up some kind of decoy? Don't want anybody to actually get abducted, of course." 

"I was abducted a while back." Dana reminds him, "I can remember... More of it than I'm supposed to, even if it does mostly come to me in fragments or in dreams. It's difficult to piece all of it together. It's like staring at one puzzle piece instead of the whole picture." 

"Yeah, I get that." Carlos says and Cecil notices that he's still touching his hair. 

He decides to ask Earl about it but waits until later that night, when Roger has been tucked back into bed and the door has been firmly locked several times over. It's so late at night that Dana just pours herself a thick cup of coffee and sits on the floor of the front room sipping it, as she writes some notes. She's at college studying something, though Cecil can't remember for the life of him what exactly it is she's studying. Something to do with radio? Maybe. Although, that sounds more like something he'd be into than Dana. As for Carlos, he's sitting on their couch and flicking through the same twelve channels everybody in the town has. Again, again. Click, click, click, click. Channel three, channel four, channel five. Clicking through them so fast that he can't really be interested in watching TV.

Earl ducks into the kitchen, saying something about making soup to warm everybody up, and Cecil follows him in. Cecil isn't allowed to help him cook, since Earl can be very picky about his cooking and doesn't like anybody else intervening. He's scared they'll get it wrong, Cecil thinks, and Earl likes to get everything perfectly right first time. So, Cecil just hands him ingredients when he asks for them and makes idle conversation. 

"Do you know why Carlos always touches his hair?" He manages to turn the conversation to, finally, and Earl audibly sighs. He continues chopping an onion flawlessly, slicing quickly and efficiently with a knife but somehow managing not to slice the skin off his knuckles. 

"Cecil, that's called stimming." Earl tells him, "It's something that people like Carlos do." 

"Scientists?" Cecil questions. 

"Sure, scientists." Earl replies, smiling at him, "Pass me the pepper." 

It's too late at night to even be called night anymore- it's a lot like early morning now- but everybody just sinks into their regular seats in the front room. Cecil gets to lie across his beloved armchair with the design that looks like teeth and spoon soup into his mouth as they all talk science. He'd be lying if he said he understood how most of the modern devices Carlos was waving around worked but he understands that they do sciency things. And it seems like in an old movie, Carlos has figured out some way of detecting disturbance in the airwaves in the old part of town. That's what he keeps referring to it as. 

Cecil wonders aloud if that's why cellphones don't work there because of the interference and Carlos grins at him like he's impressed. Of course, Cecil can't help feeling more than a little proud and flustered from receiving a grin manages to spill soup over himself. Luckily, the only person who seems to notice is Earl and he just grimaces a little and keeps his mouth shut. 

"I've been trying to figure out what they're trying to say." Carlos says, "The angels that live in the old part of town. I've been trying to tune my device so that I can understand them better but the only words I've been able to get are something that sounds like "Strex" and "picnic". I don't suppose any of you would know what that means? I've been trying to decode it myself but I don't think I know enough about the history of Desert Bluffs." 

"Dana." Cecil said, excited, "Bring out the board."

"Of course. But I hope you're planning to pay me for extra hours." Dana seems to be joking as she gets up and pulls the secret board out from where they keep it hidden behind the couch. It's a whiteboard like one might find in an elementary school but it's covered in notes and photos and a mess of handwriting. The cramped blue writing is Dana's research, the loopy purple ideas and conspiracies are Cecil's, and the orange starred points are Earl's. Dana throws a green marker to Carlos but he throws it back. 

"A scientist is always prepared." He has a black marker in his pocket, which he uncaps so that he can add what he's figured out about waves and energy and angels. 

His handwriting is perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: kevin gets the shit kicked out of him in a dream/flashback. also his boyfriend is disgusting and horrible?? ew, diego, please leave.

There are cameras in the house of every citizen in Desert Bluffs for the sake of observation, so that Strexcorp could keep a firm eye on what was going on throughout the entire town. It was important, they assured all curious people as they tied them up and tossed them in windowless vans, for them to keep an eye on everybody. It helps them keep the town safe. Constant observation of the residents of Desert Bluffs benefited them as well as Strexcorp. And this was what his boyfriend told Kevin as he climbed into bed. 

"Kevin, we've been over this a million times. The cameras in Desert Bluffs are to keep an eye on the residents of the town so that we can make sure that they are happy and safe. They are there to benefit the townspeople." He smiles wryly at Kevin, "They are not there for you to play little games with completely irrelevant radio hosts." 

"Diego." Kevin gets into the bed on the other side but shuffles up so close that he's on Diego's side anyway, "I know that your work is very important to you and it's very important to me too. I know how important working and being loyal to your company is. I work for you, remember? To some extent, anyway."

"And you do a great job on your cute little radio show." Diego promises him, "I listen every single day and make sure everybody at work does too. Your positivity has a great impact on everybody at the office. But I can't let you access the cameras in Cecil's home. Trust me, I've checked them a million times and he's not doing anything we don't know about." He trails a finger along Kevin's jaw teasingly, "Don't tell me you're still trying to drive him crazy." 

Kevin grins at him. "It's nothing like that, Diego, don't blow it out of proportion. I just think that we should keep a much closer eye on him and his friends. They're a big threat to us as long as they aren't under our control, remember?" 

"At first, I was worried about him. I thought he was going to be the cause of a rebellion." Diego admits, a little begrudgingly, "But what you're forgetting is that they haven't done anything to try and stop us. Sure, there's the little radio show and they might well figure out that Strexcorp were the ones who wiped out Night Vale a couple of decades ago. But they're not actually going to do anything to drag us down. Be reasonable about it, Kevin." 

"Okay, I guess." Kevin gives in, "As long as you aren't worried, I don't see any reason I should be either. Everything is absolutely perfect and there's no way that Cecil Palmer is going to ruin that-" 

"Kevin." He's silenced with a long kiss and when he breaks away, Diego meets his eyes, "Cecil Palmer is nothing to us. If I find out that you've snuck into my work and attempted to access the cameras, I won't be happy with you. And you don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

"No, I don't. And I won't. I'll drop the subject, I promise." Kevin finds his boyfriend's hand and squeezes it tightly so that he can try and share his faith, "Are you going to work tomorrow?" 

"My work is very important." Diego reminds him, "I'll see you afterwards. You and Lauren have fun doing your cute little radio show or whatever it is you do on Sundays. Just promise that you'll stop chasing down Cecil Palmer. You're just going to make him more suspicious and then, you're going to be the one causing a problem. And you wouldn't want to disappear, would you?"

Kevin shakes his head. And when Diego wraps an arm around him, he curls into him willingly and remembers the first day that he'd met Diego. Or what little he could remember of it anyway. He remembers thinking that Diego was the most charming and wonderful man that he had ever met and he remembers Diego promising that they would be happy together. And they were happy together. They are happy together. Kevin falls asleep inhaling the scent of Diego's beautiful hair and it stays with him until he starts dreaming. 

In his dreams, Kevin is frantic but he can't remember why. He's in a radio station, like the one in Desert Bluffs but this one is bloody and old and flames are licking at the edges of it, and he gets the feeling that he needs to protect the radio station for some reason. It's all that matters to him for some reason- all that matters is that he protects this station from the people trying to push their way into. But the door is bulging open, the lock won't hold much longer, and they're forcing their way in. And suddenly, Kevin is pushing against the door. He's using all his body weight, all his strength, to keep the door closed. 

They're pushing on the other side and they're stronger but Kevin fights back, screaming for reasons that he can't possibly explain in words, and it's like they're trying to break the world apart. He must keep them out, he must- he has to. Just because most of Desert Bluffs has fallen under them doesn't mean that this place has to. He can protect the radio station. And that's when the door is shoved so hard that Kevin is sent flying across the room.

"So this is the last barrier of defence?" A familiar voice asks, "A pathetic radio host soaked in the blood of the people he loves? No wonder this town was easy to rip apart at the seams. What a pathetic bunch of people." 

Kevin can't push himself up because every single part of his body hurts. He's breaking apart from the inside and there's absolutely nothing he can do to stop it; no matter how much he screams for them to get the hell away from him, he can't stop them. His ribs must be broken because he can't so much as breathe without every single part of his torso wailing in pain. Blood drips from his nose fast and flows over his fingers, onto the floor. And when somebody grabs him by the shirt and yanks him upwards, he howls in pain. 

"Pathetic." The man is gripping him by his shirt and laughing; but it's a gentle hand that brushes Kevin's hair back out of his eyes and smoothies it down, "Oh, we might have to keep this one alive. I think with a little adjustment, he could be of use to us. And I'm going to make him the best one of them all. We'll be very happy, Kevin." 

And then, the man releases his grip and drops Kevin back onto the floor. He crumples on the ground in a heap, whimpering and feeling just as pathetic as the man said he was, trying to look for something to help him. Where is his intern and why aren't they coming to rescue him? Where is the secret police? Oh god, oh the mighty Smiling God, where are they? Where is the Smiling God and why aren't they here to rescue him? Defeated, he curls in on himself and cries hard enough for his tears to pool on the floor beside him. And everything is red with blood.

"Diego!" Kevin jerks awake quickly and sits up, panicked as he tears away the bedsheets to try and escape from them, "Diego, where-" 

It's only as he's standing beside the bed in his underwear and one of his boyfriend's old t-shirts that he's able to put together where the hell he is. Kevin takes one deep breath... Two deep breaths... Three... And brushes his hair back out of his eyes. He's not in a radio station, he is in the bedroom of the apartment that he shares with his wonderful boyfriend. Diego has gone to work early, which is why his jacket is gone and a note on scented paper sits neatly in it's place. Kevin picks it up and inhales, letting the scent wash over him. Then, he unfolds the note and reads the words he knows by heart. They rarely vary at all. 

_Kevin, I've gone to work. I'll see you when I get home tonight. Good luck on the air today!  
\- Diego_

Well, that clears that up. Diego is at work, Kevin is at home; the reason he is soaked through with sweat and he can't stop his legs from shaking is simply because he had a nightmare. Everybody has nightmares- they're nothing to fear- and Kevin has had them before. He knows that the best thing he can do is forget them instantly, never talk about them to anybody, and go and get ready for the day. First of all, he calls Lauren and asks her in his usual cheerful tone how she is and whether she's ready for the show today. He's craving the sound of other humans, so that he can be grounded back in reality. 

"Um, Kevin, we actually don't go on air today!" Lauren reminds him, "We don't air on Sundays so that people have time to work extra hard, remember? But if you're interested in meeting for coffee this morning, I was just on my way to get some!" 

"I'll pass actually. Me and my boyfriend- you know, Diego, he's kind of a big deal- have plans together today." Kevin lies through his grinning teeth and feels terrible about it. No wonder the Smiling God punishes him with nightmares for behaving like this. He shouldn't lie to perfectly pleasant people like Lauren Mallard- his best and only friend. 

"Oh, how cool of him. I guess he finally took some time of work to spend time with you." How did she know-? "Honestly, Kevin, this is Desert Bluffs. Everybody in the entire town knows absolutely everything about you. Especially me, I'm your closest friend." 

"Sure!" Kevin replies, enthusiastically; and then, more carefully, "Hey, Lauren, I just had the weirdest dream-"

"Well, you know what the government says about dreams!" She sounds sunny as ever, "You should repress them until they feel less like dreams belonging to you and more like unfortunate realities for other people. Repress your dreams, Kevin. Focus on your work. I'll see you tomorrow in the radio booth." 

And then, Lauren hangs up the phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well i got over my writer's block

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched?" Dana asks, as she peers through the blinds hanging over their front room window, "Not just a faint feeling but a really strong feeling that the government are spying on us. Right now? Because they installed cameras, right? To keep us safe. But I can't help feeling like it's for a completely different reason." 

"We put tape over all the cameras." Earl reminds her. 

"Just because we try to cover the eyes of our enemies with our mortal hands does not mean that we can stop them from them seeing what we are doing with their omnipresent eyes." Cecil says, scooping the cat up into his arms and putting it on the window sill. Gratefully, Khoshekh worms his way out of the window and leaps outside. Cecil watches the cat wind it's way around a nearby lamppost before crawling into an overturned trash to hide. Judging by the faint mewling, Khoshekh has found something that interests him in there. He runs away with a flyer for the community college trapped between his teeth and disappears. 

"Anyway, I've got to take Roger to school." Earl says, after they've all contemplated in silence for a moment that lasts far too long, "Cecil, would you like to come with me? You're really good at convincing Roger to go inside. Giving him pep talks." 

"Well, I understand how hard it is for a young boy like him to go through the American schooling system. The work, the tests, the trials of fire..." Cecil considers, "Though, actually, I'm not sure that last one was an official school exam. I think those older students might have just been trying to play some kind of joke on us." He shrugs, "Anyway, I can't come with you today, Earl. I've agreed to meet with Kevin for a cup of coffee." 

"Oh, God." Earl groans, "Cecil-"

"I'm an adult, Earl. I can choose who I am going to spend my time with responsibly. And he merely wanted to discuss something of importance with me." Cecil says, "And even if Kevin is our enemy, we should still treat him the same as we treat everybody else."

"Cecil wants to get a closer look at Kevin's eyes." Dana pipes up, helpfully, "That's the real reason that he agreed to go. He even said that to me. But I guess, Cecil, it's up to you whether you go or not. You're right that you can make your own decisions, I guess. Just stay safe." 

"If he scares you, you can call me." Earl assures him, "I'll be there as soon as possible." 

As Cecil walks, he reflects on what Kevin's voice sounded like over the call. It had been as cheerful and bright as usual but it had sounded strained somehow. Like he was forcing his words out through a smile that was too tight for his face- like he was using his tone to cover the fact that something was bothering him. And Cecil was curious about that. 

Ever since he had first met Kevin, every word that man had said had been cheerful and delivered with a smile. And even if he was repeating brainwashed smiley phrases the local government had fed him, he seemed so sure of them. This morning, he hadn't seemed so sure. Could it be that... Kevin was beginning to doubt them? Doubt himself? Cecil hadn't mentioned the idea to his friends because it had seemed far too absurd to even think about. But he was sure there was something more to this meeting than coffee. 

And sure enough, Kevin was waiting for him with two cups of steaming coffee already sitting in front of him. Of course, Cecil spotted him immediately and kept steady eye contact with him as he approached. Kevin didn't stop smiling steadily the whole time, playing the part of the bright and eager radio host as he always did, and he kept his hands on the table in front of him. 

"Cecil, hi!" He waves him over, "Come and sit with me." 

As if things weren't odd enough, now everybody in the coffee shop was staring at them. Did Kevin want the public to know that the two of them were meeting here? That seemed odd. 

"Hello, Kevin." Cecil uses the 'pleasant' voice he reserves only for Kevin, as he takes a seat across from him and stares curiously at the cup of coffee sitting in front of him. He's not sure that Kevin would be the type to try and poison him- he seems more intent on keeping Cecil alive to play with- but he doesn't want to risk it. 

"It's nice to see you in a place like this. Out of work, you know?" Kevin says, "I know it's an unusual practice for hard workers such as ourselves to take a break but we'll just have to make sure we double our workloads this afternoon." 

Cecil doesn't say that breaks from work are good for him. "Um, yes." 

He also doesn't add how weird it is to see Kevin out of work and wearing something other than his usual red tie and cream shirt. Kevin dressed in normal clothes is a very strange sight to behold, especially since he seems to dress very plainly indeed. The t-shirt he's wearing has Strex's logo printed on it but other than that, he looks extraordinarily normal. He hasn't even combed his hair back... If Cecil didn't know better, he'd say that Kevin looked a mess. Almost like... Something was wrong. He studied his eyes closely but couldn't find any emotion there. 

"I suppose you're wondering why I've invited you on our little..." Kevin pauses, grinning as he draws out the next word in a humiliating way, "Play-date. You don't need to answer that. I can see that you're brimming over with curiosity." 

"Actually, for once, you're correct. I'd be very interested to know what I'm doing here." Cecil carefully lifts his cup to his lips and tilts it to mimic drinking, keeping his lips tightly closed so that he doesn't accidentally drink any of the coffee. When he lowers the cup, Kevin's expression has changed to more curious than before. Maybe he did spike the drink after all and is waiting to see what effect it has on Cecil. Or maybe not. There's no way of knowing. 

"Okay... Well, it's more of a personal matter than a working matter." Kevin tears the head off a packet of sugar slowly, not breaking his gaze from Cecil's, and empties it into his drink, "I've been considering who to talk to about my recent dreams. And I seem to recall that you're something of an interpreter." 

Cecil is taken back. "Oh. Well, I suppose I am."

"You talk about your dreams on the air." Kevin says, sounding more and more curious, "Dreams about... Ah, Night Vale, isn't it? About the spirits you believe lurk there." 

He picks up a white plastic stirrer and dips it into his cup, slowly mixing the contents around. For some reason, Cecil is hypnotised by the slow and gentle movements of his hands. 

"I've had dreams that I believe are influenced by the ghosts of people that used to live in Night Vale. I believe that the angels who still inherit the town pass the memories of the people who lived there to me. I see their experiences first-hand in my dreams." 

Cecil has had these sorts of dreams since he was a child and he woke up sobbing hysterically about a five-headed dragon with multiple personalities being imprisoned in the old Night Vale jail. He had no idea how he knew what the jail looked like, since he had never actually seen it, or when he had learnt the name of the old part of town. But these things seemed like common knowledge to him even then and his mother had to come in and tell him firmly that he needed to stop crying. Cecil's sister had been more sympathetic and wiped his tears for him and asked him to tell her all about it. And from that night onwards, the dreams had been constant. 

His dreams were never very specific but he always recounted what he could remember of them on the radio, researching and reading into what they might mean. They seemed like memories, he was sure of that, but he knew they didn't belong to him. 

"Cecil, where did you go?" Kevin is inches from his face. 

A strangled cry escapes Cecil as he finds himself directly looking into eyes that don't seem to exist. Like Dana said: for a fraction of a moment, he swears that he can't see anything there. But as soon as he blinks, he finds himself staring into the dark irises belonging to Kevin. The whites of his eyes are obnoxiously bright, almost luminescent. Like they're mocking him.

"Sorry, I was..." Cecil doesn't explain, shaking his head wordlessly; then, he clears his throat and adds, "So, you said something about your dreams? Is it safe to discuss them here?" 

"You broadcast your dreams on a platform that everybody in town has access to." Kevin says, "Are you so concerned about me that you care about me discussing mine in a coffee shop?" He adopts a wide grin, stretching from ear to ear, "Do you care about me or something?"

"Tell me about your dreams, Kevin." Cecil says, fairly but firmly. 

He doesn't want to dance around the subject anymore; the longer he sits here looking at Kevin, the more uncomfortable he feels just being here. Kevin is the enemy, Kevin is the bad guy and it's weird that aside from making Cecil uncomfortable, Kevin hasn't done anything. 

"Okay." Kevin leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands, "Recently, I've been having this dream. I'm in a radio station and it looks a lot like the one we both use. But it's different. It looks broken." 

His words paint a vivid picture in Cecil's mind and he can't help closing his eyes, visualising. 

"I'm the only one left. For some reason, I think I'm the only one left. And I need to protect the radio station. I keep thinking the same thing over and over again: I need to protect the radio station. It's the only thing left to me." 

Cecil can see it all too well: a blood-soaked, panicked Kevin desperately trying to keep the radio station safe from whatever is on the other side of the door.

"They're trying to break down the door but I won't let them. I can't let them. As the last line of defence, I use my body to keep the door shut. I use myself as the final defence." For the first time, Kevin's voice jolts uncertainly, "But they push open the doors and I'm-"

The sound of a door being flung open cuts Kevin off and causes Cecil to open his eyes quickly, sitting up straight abruptly. He gets a glimpse of a pair of empty eyes and then, when he blinks, Kevin looks just as confused as he does. He's knocked his coffee over in his surprise and the dark liquid is spreading across the table and dripping onto the floor.

When Cecil looks in the direction of the door, he sees a pair of very serious Strex employees flanking a Hispanic man wearing a tight-fitting suit. Nobody in the entire shop so much as moves a muscle, all of them frozen in shock, before the man smiles creepily and everything snaps back into normal. People resume their conversations as if nothing happened, the barista continues making coffee without noticing the cup is overflowing in her hand, but Kevin doesn't finish his sentence. He's staring at the man who just entered, guilt painted on his face. 

Now, Cecil hasn't seen many emotions pass over Kevin's face before. Today, seeing something like curiosity and maybe something else hidden way was rare. But the expression on Kevin's face now- the utter guilt and shame- is something Cecil doesn't think he's ever seen on anyone. Kevin's smile vanishes completely for a full three minutes as the man walks slowly over to their table with a swagger in his step. As soon as the man halts, the smile springs back. 

"Hello, Diego. Did you take time off from work to come and see me?" Kevin beams up at him. 

"Kevin, I thought I told you not to interfere." Diego- more commonly referred to as Head of Strex or Kevin's Boyfriend- doesn't look in the mood to play along with Kevin's act, "What are you doing here?"

"Just catching up with my good friend, Cecil." Kevin says, confidently. 

"Shouldn't you both be in the radio station? In your respective booths? Separated? Working?" Diego scowls at the two of them in turn, like he hates them both. 

Cecil frowns. He's unsure why Kevin's boyfriend is so intent on keeping Cecil and Kevin apart but he knows now that this entire meeting was just Kevin's attempt to earn some attention from his boyfriend. Or maybe it wasn't? Because Kevin is still smiling but it doesn't look right anymore. It's like the smile is beginning to hurt his face or something. 

"My radio show doesn't start until-" 

"Kevin, I think I should take you home." Diego says, like it's an order. 

"No, I-" 

Cecil stands. "I think you need to treat your boyfriend with more respect, Diego. Because that's not how you should talk to somebody you care about." 

As much as he dislikes Kevin- though he grows steadily more curious every time he sees a glimpse of the Kevin behind the teeth and the eyes- Cecil is not just going to stand by and let Diego treat him badly. Regardless of how much he dislikes a person- ahem, Steve!- he would never approve of their significant other treating them badly. 

"Cecil." Kevin looks stunned. Not just that Cecil stuck up for him but that anyone stuck up for him. For a second, just like Cecil said, it's like seeing a man behind a man for the first time. It's like seeing a man that used to exist. And then, Kevin disappears again behind the smile. Smugly, he gets to his feet and slides an arm through Diego's. They leave. And Cecil is left standing there, in the puddle of coffee that has gathered under their table. 

Cecil decides not to recount this story on the air and instead, he informs his listeners in Desert Bluffs about the old Strexcorp stickers he found in the old part of town. He found a drawer stuffed full of them in the old town hall and several so burnt that they disintegrated when he picked them up. Cecil has no idea how he'd missed them all these years but Carlos has a much keener eye for detail than he has and pointed them out. As it turns out, investigating with Carlos makes everything a great deal more interesting. And not just because he got to hold Carlos's hand when they were walking through the creepy but romantic old streets. 

On that note, Cecil took them to the weather and as it played, Dana stuck her head around the door to talk to him. He hadn't seen her since that morning and obviously, the fact that he hadn't mentioned his meeting with Kevin concerned her. Because when somebody goes to a meeting with their nemesis and then doesn't mention it afterwards, it's a normally a sign that something went horribly wrong at said meeting and/or they were brainwashed. 

"Hey, Cecil. Sorry we didn't get to talk before the show." Dana says, "How'd it go? With Kevin?" 

"It was... Strange. Kevin wasn't acting like himself. He told me about this dream he keeps having when he thinks he's the only person left. A dream where he's the last hope or something. Then, his boyfriend showed up and took him home early." Cecil shakes his head, unsure of what to say, "Dana, I'm worried there might be more to Kevin than we thought. Talking to him alone was like peering a little behind the curtain."

"That's certainly an interesting development." Dana bites her lower lip, "Is it wrong to say that... I almost pity him? There's clearly something deeper than we see on the surface. Kevin has some kind of background we know nothing about." 

Cecil can understand what she means. After seeing the way that Diego spoke to Kevin- like he belonged to him- Cecil had to resist the urge to pat Kevin on the shoulder when he passed him in the corridor earlier. Meanwhile, Kevin hadn't even made eye contact with him. And considering how uneasy Kevin seemed to delight in making Cecil feel, he didn't say a word. That, Cecil noticed, was weird. 

"I..." Cecil sighs, "I don't even know. It makes him a little harder to detest, that's for sure." 

"I'd love to know if something happened to Kevin." Dana says, "You remember when I came back from the desert and I was really confused?"

"You couldn't stop talking about the lights." Cecil remembers, "The blinking lights up above the desert. We never figured out what you meant."

"I wonder if something like that happened to Kevin. If something changed him." 

"We can't just assume these things." Cecil replies, "We can speculate but we can't assume. For all we know, Kevin was born a beaming, perfect Strexcorp employee. He came into existence just like he is now..." He realises he's grasping at straws, "I just don't know." 

"We need to investigate a little further." Dana agrees, "Maybe look into his dreams a little more. Try and find out about what Kevin was doing before his radio show. He did just seem to pop into existence from nowhere a few years ago." 

Cecil hesitates before adding: "If Kevin's dreams mean anything..."

"Yes?" Dana urges him on. 

"I'd say they're proof that something happened. Some kind of takeover. And Kevin was there." 

After all, there was no real reason for Kevin to have such vivid dreams about something so specific. His dreams about needing to protect the radio station, about being the last hope... That surely couldn't just span from some sort of complex, could it? It couldn't all be a metaphor. As much as Cecil hates to admit it... It would kind of support his theory. The people of Desert Bluffs didn't think like he did. And maybe if they did- if Kevin had- then they got changed somehow so they fit into Strexcorp's moulds. 

"You're implying that Kevin used to resist Strexcorp. The dreams he has... They might not be dreams at all; they might be memories. Like the dreams that I have, that you have." Dana's eyes widen a little, "Cecil... If that was true, that would change everything. We're not just a bunch of crazy people- somebody is deliberately wiping people's memories somehow." 

"I know." Cecil says, solemnly, "And I hope it's not true." He checks how the weather is doing and discovers they don't have much time left, "But we're back on air in less than a minute so we're going to have to continue this conversation later." 

"You should call Carlos when we're done." Dana says, "Tell him what we found out and..." Her lips twist into a small smile, despite the severity of the situation, "Maybe take him out to dinner next week? I know you want to. And he wants you to ask him out, I just know it." 

"Thanks, Dana." Cecil slips his headphones back on, _"Welcome back, listeners..."_


End file.
